Stellar Collision
by setepenre-set
Summary: In which being telepathically bonded does not necessarily mean that there are never misunderstandings, and Roxanne and Megamind build something together. pre-movie AU, second part of Love Song for the Misfits (follows Black Hole Heart).
It happens for the first time about two months after they start dating

dating is such a…small word, Roxanne thinks, for someone whose thoughts you're able to touch, but she doesn't know what else to call it, because they spend time together and Megamind kisses her back when she kisses him first, and Minion gave her the if-you-hurt-him-I-will-never-forgive-you speech three weeks ago, so.

yes.

dating.

(Roxanne is a little concerned about the fact that Megamind only ever kisses her if she kisses him first, about the fact that the night on her couch, with his mouth and his body under hers, is the farthest they've gone, about how, even then, it was her sitting on his lap, her pushing him down on the cushions, about how he's said that he loves her, and she's felt that he loves her, but there's a difference, isn't there, between

I love you

and

I'm in love with you

and even if he is in love with her—she thinks he is, thinks that's what she feels when she touches his mind, but Roxanne's never felt anyone's thoughts like this before, and what if that isn't what romantic love feels like to someone else?—even if he is in love with her, that's not a guarantee that he wants her in the same way that she wants him, and any time their shared thoughts drift in that direction, he wrenches his mind away from hers, pulls away from her, refuses to meet her eyes and

sometimes Roxanne worries about that dream of theirs, the one where she kisses him and it makes him break apart, wonders if that's Megamind's subconscious trying to tell her to stop wanting him like that, to stop pushing.)

She tries not to push

(if-you-hurt-him-I-will-never-forgive-you and Roxanne will never forgive herself)

But.

Anyway.

dating, yes.

She's over at the lair; the two of them are sitting around the workshop, talking, Roxanne in his tall-backed black leather chair, Megamind in her old kidnapping chair, tilted back on two legs with her feet propped up in his lap, the disassembled satellite death ray in pieces gathering dust on the lab table behind them.

They're rating the kidnappings from worst to best—the Disintegration Beam kidnapping is at the bottom of both of their lists

(when Roxanne says it, she feels a sort of rush of

horror / sorrow / terror / loss

from Megamind, out of all proportion to the way he simply scrunches up his face in a comically exaggerated expression of disgust and agrees with her.)

(Roxanne doesn't call him out on it; she can feel the way he's desperately hoping she won't)

When she tells him that the kidnapping with the twenty-minute emergency robot-suit was her favorite, he looks at her sidelong and says—

"Really? That one?" He frowns, clearly remembering—"What is it with you and that kidnapping, anyway?"

"It was impressive," Roxanne says, blushing.

Megamind gives her an incredulous look.

"It was a failure. It was a double failure; the first machine didn't even work!"

"Megamind, you built a fully functioning robot-suit in twenty minutes out of a bunch of junk," Roxanne tells him. "How was I supposed to keep from being impressed?"

"Years of effort put in," Megamind says, shaking his head, "and that's what it takes to impress you?"

And there's laughter in his voice, but a wistful twist to his thoughts, a sort of

(I miss—)

that cuts itself off before it can be finished.

Roxanne looks at him inquiringly and he makes a face.

"Giant robots," he says, then sighs. "I miss the giant robots. The—the not-being-so-evil thing hasn't been nearly as difficult as I thought it would be, but I do miss the giant robots."

Roxanne blinks, because

well

okay, yes, she kind of maybe misses the giant robots, too?

"I mean," she says, "giant robots aren't, you know. Intrinsically evil."

Megamind scoffs and raises one eyebrow, picturing—

(battlesuit, lots of spikes, giant saw-blade attachment, enormous cannon, sharp spurs on its feet, black paint and lightning bolts and the smell of hot metal and engine oil and—)

Roxanne tilts her head and thinks—

(disaster rescue suit, lose the spikes, keep the saw; that'll be useful, take off the spurs, replace the cannon with a grappling gun, keep the lightning bolts; nothing wrong with lightning bolts, I wonder if you could make it work underwater—)

Megamind's chair thuds down onto all four legs.

"Oh," he says, and he thinks—

(—and then what if—)

and Roxanne thinks

(yes, exactly, and—)

Megamind moves her feet off of his lap and stands in a sort of trance, lower lip caught between his teeth, and he turns to the lab table and starts sorting through the pieces of the satellite death ray.

Roxanne stands, too, hovering at his shoulder, watching

watching Megamind work god yes

and

and he probably won't want her help, but

(maybe he'll let her hand him the parts and tools that he needs sometimes)

and

Megamind apparently catches the tail-end of that thought, because he turns to her with a look of shocked disbelief, almost disgust

(hand him things? stand and watch and hand him—? No, Roxanne, no.)

He pushes a wrench into her hands.

"You're better with power cell configuration than I am," he says.

And Roxanne's subsequent pulse of

(sheer and utter joy)

and

(wanted-that-from-you-for-so-long, Megamind)

causes Megamind's breath to catch audibly.

"Oh," he says, "oh, you didn't—you didn't know that I—? You didn't know that you're—"

(the brilliant burst of light when two neutron stars collide, brighter than anything else in the universe: Roxanne)

And it's Roxanne whose breath catches this time.

"—you're the smartest person I know," Megamind tells her quietly and then he

reaches out with an unsure hand and

places just his fingertips against her face

and leans forward to brush his lips over hers

lightly, so lightly

(moth wings fluttering whisper-soft)

and then he's

moving away again, a high flush on his cheekbones and the tips of his ears, before Roxanne can collect the scattered pieces of her thoughts sufficiently to respond.

"I'll start on the grappling gun," he says, turning to the lab table, voice a little high, words coming a bit too quickly, and Roxanne

just

glows

just feels herself radiating light, as though maybe she really is just as bright and beautiful as Megamind sees her

(that's how he sees her, that's how he—)

(smartest person that I know)

(he loves her, is in love with her, she knows this now, the surety of it singing through her, written in the light of a stellar collision in his mind and the moth-wing brush of his mouth over her own)

Roxanne turns back to the lab table, and she sees—

(that, yes, perfect, and—)

And beside her Megamind is working, too, hands steady and certain now and

when they're done with the power configuration and the grappling gun, clearly the only thing to be done is get out the welding tools and start on the construction of the exoskeleton, their hands and minds working in tandem, fluid and seamless, excitement like electricity dancing in between them—

(—oh, but if we—)

(—yes, you see it—)

(—you see it—)

and a vast sense of

(rapture / wonder / sanctuary)

underneath each thought

because

(—you see it, too—)

And somewhere along the way, the suit develops a searchlight and a long-distance control system and wings, and neither of them are certain which one of them thought of the wings, and it is sixteen hours later and neither of them have slept or eaten but the suit is finished and it is

perfect

and

they both turn to each other at the same time, reach for each other at the same time, meeting in the middle and

Megamind and Roxanne make love for the first time on the lab table, beneath the shadow of the beautiful thing they've built together, the ink and soot and engine grease on both of their hands leaving marks on every bit of skin that they uncover, light and love and happiness bursting golden between them like stars.

(later, when they stumble into the kitchen, dizzy with how tired and hungry and happy and completely in love they are, Minion sighs and makes them pancakes and scolds them both gently—especially you, ma'am; I had hoped you'd be a good influence, but you're just as bad as he is—and herds them into bed)

They lie together, wrapped around each other, voices murmuring, their minds brushing together like lazy kisses

(everything I ever)

and

(never thought I could have)

and when they fall asleep like that, they dream of stellar collisions and galaxies spinning bright around the singularity of black holes, and both of them

smile

as they dream

together


End file.
